The End
by Aquiel
Summary: Kathryn and Chakotay are home, and time finally permits a moment to think back over the last few years


Disclaimer: Paramount owns all.

Note: I've never written a full 'they get home' story, and I must admit, inspiration is becoming scarce. I'd hoped to try and convey a sense of closure on their relationship-whether it did or did not happen. 

I'm not entirely sure I've accomplished this, but I gave it a damn good try:)

Thanks for everything!

_The End_

by: [Aquiel][1]

How can one define a feeling that's experienced only once in a lifetime. You can say that it was memorable, exciting, terrifying at times, but nothing seems to do it justice. Perhaps it's never meant to be defined. This is what I've come to believe.

For too long I've been the Captain; strong, determined, stubborn. Human above all else, but it's very difficult to remember that, when the lives of so many people are depending upon the fact that you are _more _than just a human being. And now, as we all try to settle back into the routines of living in the Alpha Quadrant, I'm being forced to confront the ghost of a woman I thought had died so many years ago. It was very difficult separating the Captain from the woman when this journey first began, and now that it's over it's even more difficult learning how to just be Kathryn again.

There have been many a time, in the past few weeks, when the thought of leaving it all behind was very appealing, but for all that would ease the pain temporarily, in the long run it would accomplish very little. So instead, I find myself sitting alone, away from everyone and everything, sharing company only with my own meandering beliefs.

"Care for a drink?" a voice, intruding into the river of thoughts running through my head.. But the voice, it's familiar, and I can't help but look up. And in seconds I'm propelled back to a journey through the stars, my only companion in self-loathing and pity, my friend, my first officer. Chakotay.

"Only if you're buying." I smile finally, and he eases into the seat across the small glass table. 

"So, this is where you're keeping company these days." He speaks quietly, and glances around. The mid-day rush of the small coffee house has vacated, to be replaced by a more subdued atmosphere. "Perfect for indulging in the melancholy." I state flatly, a joke, but not really.

He only raises his eyebrow, giving me one of 'those looks' I've missed so much. "You're looking well Kathryn." he says, and I note automatically that he's using my name, not my title. 

Nodding, I quickly take a sip of my coffee, and continue with the pleasantries. With that accomplished, we sit in silence for a while, interrupted only by the waiter, as he greets his new customer, and takes our order. 

He looks good; better than when I'd seen him last, exchanging information at Starfleet headquarters, weeks ago now. I don't think he blames me for leaving as I did, otherwise he would have said something. He knew, or at least appreciated what I was going through after our return, and the only thing I could think of was getting away. He'd found me though, as I somehow knew that he would. 

I couldn't help but wonder where we might have been, had things started out differently. Would we still be in the Delta Quadrant, or would we have made it home anyway. Maybe, had we tried a little harder, things would have worked out between us. Maybe, if I'd tried harder.

I guess we'll never know. 

Chakotay is staring at me. Funny, I've always known when he's looking at me; it's a feeling that's intrigued me for years. I doubt if he realizes I know, or if he does, he doesn't care. 

In times past, I may have caught his eye, and quickly turned away, either too embarrassed, or too scared to hold his gaze, but today I can't for the life of me look anywhere but at him. It's all I can do to keep from falling into those eyes, and god knows, there will always be a part of me ready and willing to jump. But as quick as I feel myself begin to fall, reality comes crashing down with a vengeance, and I realize, I can't go through this again.

And I think he knows it too.

"Why are you here?" I ask finally. Not that it mattered. He had found me, and that was the most important thing.

Chakotay shrugs, and waits patiently while the waiter deposits a fresh pot of coffee in the center of our table. Automatically, we both reach for it, and our hands brush in the middle, reminiscent of another time so long ago, where a table had been the only thing that stood between he and I. I begin to pull back, but he reaches for me, grasping my hand just barely in his own. Our fingertips are only lightly touching, and my eyes are focused only on the points of contact. 

At a disconnected moment much later, Chakotay answers, without looking up. "To find you." He lets go of his hold on my fingers, and I feel a momentary pang of sadness at the loss of contact. Very quickly though, I push back that feeling, and concentrate on the sounds coming from the old style radio in the corner. 

Sadly, I look up, and into the sympathetic eyes of the man sitting across from me. "I don't think there's a me to find anymore." I whisper, and struggle to push back the lump in my throat.

But Chakotay only takes a deep breath, and lifts his shoulders. "Don't worry Kathryn." he replies, and pours us both another cup of coffee, "we'll get through it."

And that was it.

So often we felt drawn to one another on Voyager. Somehow I doubt it was random acts of longing. I think-and I acknowledge this with some trepidation-that we could relate to one another, better than anyone else on board. We both understood what we were really up against-professionally and personally, and yet, it remained a constant source of strength. 

Chakotay was the only one I could turn to when all hell broke loose. When the Vidiians were closing in, or the Borg and their damned assimilation were threatening our very existence, Chakotay, my friend, was there, ready and more than willing to drown my sorrows. And even if his offerings were only superficial, I could, for a while pretend that they were more.

"Thank you." I say, finally trusting myself to speak.

"For what?"

I struggle slightly, unsure myself of what I had intended to divulge. "For being you." I say simply, and hope he has understood.

There was nothing more to say. The words we had spoken once, echoed through the walls of the Ready Room, his quarters and sometimes mine. But they stopped short of reaching their goal, and the only thing I could do was nod my head, and look at him. And I think he understood. His eyes closed for a moment, and he sat before me, looking for all the world like he was sleeping. But only for a moment did he indulge in this repose, because he knew I was waiting for him, right across the table, and when he opened them again, the shadow of sadness was hidden by a clear pillar of acceptance. Apparently, he'd found a way to strengthen his resolve. I wish he didn't have to. 

But that was just another wish to add to the growing list I'd collected over the years. Of course, these were, for the most part, inconsequential things, trivial at most, but there were a precious few. And the fact that still, after so many years, Chakotay and I are unable to let go, sits like a dusty photograph, at the top of the list.

But, this is how I have chosen to live, and knowing that, I must accept the consequences, however difficult they may be. Perhaps at a different time, in a different place, we may have made it. But there were just so many things stacked against us, and I think, deep down, we were both a little too scared to try. I don't know if I'm quite ready to accept this as a solution, but I do know that whatever happens-in the next year, the next hour, even the next moment-I will have the memories of what once was, and there will never be anything as sacred. Ever.

"A toast." I announce suddenly, and raise my glass to his.

Chakotay smiles and lifts his own. "To what?" he asks.

I think for a moment, pondering the appropriate thing to say, and look across the table at the face of my former first officer. My best friend. My enemy and my soul mate. Finally, I touch my glass to his, sealing in time, a moment that would someday be forgotten. "To...the end."

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